mizmollye

Where he's from.....

He's from an old tree shaded home filled with books and a pocketfull of memories and hearing someone shout "Quit that"! An older brother named Bryan and the taste of his Momma's hot corn bread and turnip greens.

A place where old people stared down from pictures on the walls. His mind sees today the squirrels running to and away from him and Gary his next oldest brother as they try hard to behave and the memories of his Momma's chicken and dumplings.

From a place of old dogs, boyhood friends and fresh from the garden sliced tomatoes. His kind heart still hurts from being called a little S.O.B. and he's from the place of remembering a much older brother named Doug who never lived with him but came home for visits while on leave from the Marines. From a place of grieving over the death of his sister and her son who was his closest friend.

To put to rest and in the past are the many times he was told, "You ain't worth two cents" and "You ain't worth the powder to blow you to hell and back". Gone are all the old trucks, the horses and stables and his Daddy.
He's from the place where then and today he can proudly still own a gun.

Alive today and with joy are his memories of teapots and his Momma. Her pride in the little garden and the meals she lovingly made. Homemade biscuits like none other; fig jam and fresh yard eggs.
He's from the same place we choose to make our home today. He's from a place where today he knows Jesus loves him because his Momma first told him so. Today he loves Jesus and he loves that same home.

And where she's from...

We had several years ago gone back to the place in Arkansas for a family reunion where I'd grown up. A place where I took my first steps, fell in love for the first time when I looked into the face of my Mother. Where I met my little baby brother and where I formed other relationships and made friends. I learned acceptance and I learned rejection. A place where my mind was opened to learning, to art and music appreciation. I grew here and I grew up here. I knew security and stability.
Many years would pass before I would again know the feelings that having a home would bring.
I looked and I searched and so very many times I pretended. I longed to give those feelings to my children. The people were all in place but the walls were not. Was it just the walls which made that a home? No I think that as a child it was the thread. The knot always stayed knotted, sometimes fraying but never coming undone. My adult life was full of unraveling and loose ends. They just didn't make thread the same as they used to. It looked the same and even better. It promised to do the same, to perform as well, but somehow it was just a cheap imitation.
I was surprised to find that the house was still standing. It had shrunk and it was old, showing signs of neglect and decay. The people were all different. There seemed to be someone living there with a handicap as a ramp had been constructed next to the little side porch where I used to happily sit for hours and play jacks.
I found something there that day. I found the memories I had burried and was able to dig them up and place them back in my heart. A place to keep them safe and private to be taken out and re-visited time and again.
The memories...they were the thread. The thread is still strong and I can mend with that thread until my days are over. I can teach with that thread and I can spread joy and love with that thread.
I am grateful to have another home today. It was a long time coming. I like to think of it as A Tale Of Two Homes; one I came into and one I will leave from. Stopping off houses until I go to my home where no thread can break and no lease can ever expire.

And where they are now

~My Punkin Darlin and his Miz Mollye~

It took every one of life's steps for each of us to find the other
We're Finally Home
and
God is Good